Wednesday, May 28, 2008

written by.. Tom Chmura ...sketch by Lloyd Bradbury

Old Joe, Old Flo and the Cicadas

Tom Chmura“Hello Flo.”“Hello Joe.”“Hey Flo, look at these bugs. They’re all around. 17 years under ground. Then out they come all worn and torn. They look pretty sloppy after they transform. How ‘bout it Flo? 17 years underground. Have sex once then they die. My-o-my.” Then Joe got a jolt from pretty flo.“Sex every 17 years,” she said, “That’s way too much, I’d rather be dead. That’s something that I could do without.” Now that jolted Joe’s head when Flo said she’d never have a man in her bed.Joe said to Flo, “That’s problematic you see. I had this quirky thing about you and me. But sex every 17 years is not enough. At least once a year, now that’s the stuff!”“O.K. Joe, we got no show. Good-bye Joe I gotta blow.”“O.K. Flo you sexless twit, I don’t care a bit. So, so long Flo. I’ll find a ho’.”While the cicadas sang, Joe’s bell the ho’ rang.Too bad for Flo.Too bad for Joe. Too bad for the cicadas, soon they’ll be no mo’

About Me

Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched.